


Stay, Funny Valentine, Stay...

by LadyChi



Series: The Soundtrack of Our Lives is an Old Jazz Record [8]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-07
Updated: 2013-10-07
Packaged: 2017-12-28 16:44:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/994203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyChi/pseuds/LadyChi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which: Darcy really, really wants to go home. And Steve is pushed to the breaking point. And Tony has a shoe fetish. And Hawkeye does something useful! And Natasha and James head into the woods. One of my favorite pieces to write of this whole series so far.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay, Funny Valentine, Stay...

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks, as always, to the lovely Kat Morning and Vylla, who hold my hands and keep me sane. Thanks to all of Tumblr for being supportive through this rough time for me, as far as writing goes. 
> 
> Right now, I'm working 3 jobs and taking 2 classes, so finding a spare moment to write is hard. Thank you for your patience while I work towards the climax of this (hideously long) series now. :) 
> 
> Also, Iron Man 3 didn't happen in this 'verse, so Tony's still a little broken.

Darcy grew weary of the constant presence of the nurses. They tried to be unobtrusive, but it was their job to poke and prod, to measure and to ask, and ask, and ask again. Her mother had worked as a waitress for years and had drilled into all of her children to be nice to people in service industries, but she could see that the lack of privacy was even driving Steve a little nuts. And that was saying something because Steve had the patience of a saint.

 

“I want to go home,” Darcy whined, moments after the door to her hospital room shut with a quiet snick. “I want to sleep in my own bed and be miserable on my own couch. I want to eat your terrible grilled cheese sandwiches and soup, Steve. That’s how homesick I am.”

 

Steve picked up her hand and kissed the the back of her palm, climbing in bed with her before she even asked him to. “We’ll ask the doctors. Maybe you’ve miraculously healed enough that you can go home today.”

 

“I hope so.” Darcy closed her eyes. “Do you think you could give me some of your super-healing juice, Steve?”

 

It was meant as a joke, and Steve tried to take it as such, laughing a little as he made himself comfortable.. “At times like this I wish I could.”

 

Darcy reached up and pushed Steve’s hair back out of his face. “It’s getting a little long, Cap,” she said softly. “You should go get it hacked back to regulation.”

 

There was a soft knock at the door, but Steve leaned into her hand. “I miss having you at home too. Do you want me to tell whoever it is that you aren’t up for visitors?” Steve asked.

 

Darcy sighed. “No, it’s okay. Go ahead and open the door. I can be a hermit at home.”

 

Steve pushed himself off of the bed, and walked over to the door, self-consciously pushing his bangs off of his forehead. “Now that you’ve said something, you know that’s the only thing I’ll be able to think about,” he said under his breath.

 

“Peacock!” Darcy laughed from her bed.

 

“Hardly,” he said dryly, and let the door swing open. “Oh, Agent Coulson. Nice to see you.”

 

Phil Coulson was many things, placid among them. Steve’s lukewarm reaction to his presence didn’t seem to faze him. “Hello, Steve, Darcy. May I come in?”

 

The agent of SHIELD was bearing an audacious bouquet of flowers nearly as wide as he was.

 

“Sure, come on in,” Steve said, stepping back. “Can I take those? I’m sure we can find somewhere to put them in the jungle.”

 

“You never know how popular you are until a lunatic stabs you in the gut,” Darcy said sagely. “Thanks, Phil, they’re really beautiful.”

 

“They’re from everybody at the office. You seem to have made an impression with our staff, Ms. Lewis.”

 

Darcy shrugged. “Tell Janet hello for me.”

 

“You requested a briefing, Captain Rogers, as soon as we had news to give you about Mr. Barnes.”

 

Darcy struggled to sit up. “What’s going on?”

 

“Uh -- they were going to attempt some kind of procedure… get Buck’s head back on straight. Brain surgery.”

 

Phil nodded. “Agent Romanov wanted you to know that Mr. Barnes has come out of surgery. She’ll be supervising her recovery.”

 

Darcy lifted her eyebrows. “Is Natasha a nurse?”

 

“She’s uniquely suited to nurse Mr. Barnes back to full mental capacity,” Phil said evasively. “She says she’ll sort him out, or else.”

 

“Or else what?” Steve asked.

 

Phil shrugged. “We’ll have to find a way to contain him, permanently.”

 

Something cold ran up and down Darcy’s spine. “What exactly does that mean?”

 

“We built a cage that could hold a Hulk,” Phil said, his eyes refusing to meet Steve or Darcy’s. “I’m afraid the harsh reality of the world we live in is that sometimes threats must be -- contained, or neutralized. Regardless of how we might feel, personally, about that threat.”

 

“Sometimes your job sucks, Agent Coulson,” Darcy said, closing her eyes.

 

“I apologize for intruding. I just wanted to make sure you were aware of Mr. Barnes’s progress. One of my agents will continue to bring you updates as they become relevant. You guys have a good afternoon.”

 

Phil moved to step out of the door, and Steve went with him, closing the door. “Listen -- thanks for stopping by. It means the world to me. And you didn’t have to come all the way out here by yourself. I know you’re usually too busy to play messenger boy.”

 

Phil tilted his head toward Darcy’s room and smiled ruefully. “She makes an impression everywhere she goes. Just wanted to make sure she was okay with my own eyes.”

 

“I know the feeling.”

 

The two men nodded at each other, and parted.

 

**

 

Natasha rode in the back of the ambulance with James, wincing every time the unwieldy vehicle went over a bump. James was too out of it to notice, but she held his hand anyway while they made their way to the safehouse in the Appalachian mountains. She was counting on the insular nature of the surrounding community and their general mistrust of anyone who appeared to be from the government to keep them isolated. She had rarely been bothered when she spent time at the cabin, and she was hoping that experience would repeat itself.

 

She had also called in a favor with an old friend and she’d been assured the utilities would be turned on, and the cabinets would be stocked. Now, if they could just get James to the safehouse before he woke up and freaked out… He’d never been a fan of restraints of any kind (except under very specific circumstances), and with his delicate hold on reality, she was afraid that any altercation between the two of them would result in someone else getting hurt. Which was the last thing she wanted.

 

“Why does S.H.I.E.L.D want to pay to reprogram this yahoo anyway?” One of the EMTs asked her while he checked James’s vitals. “He really did a number on that Lewis gal. I didn’t think we’d get her to the hospital in time. Pretty sure I was going to get my ass handed to me by Captain America that day.”

 

Natasha bit her lip. Agent Coulson frequently reminded her that it wasn’t nice to kill people. “He has valuable information. If he can become useful, it will be worth the investment.”

 

“Glad I’m not one of the higher-ups, you know?” the EMT said. “If it were me, I don’t know if I could see the clear-cut bottom line like that. Think I’d just let someone like that rot in a pit, no matter what the gain if we could ‘fix’ him.”

 

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “Well, then. Let’s all be grateful you’re not in charge, shall we?”

 

The EMT saw something dangerous in her eyes, swallowed, and shut his mouth.

 

**

 

Lab equipment buzzed and beeped unobtrusively. Jane Foster sat at her desk, one leg crossed over the other, studying her data with unseeing eyes. She’d looked at the same set of numbers without comprehension for the last hour and a half. The other scientists working in the Stark labs maneuvered around her unmoving form. It was understood that she was to be left alone. The last few days had been trying for everyone at Stark Industries, and Jane had it worse off than everyone else, who were just dealing with the backlash of Tony’s… enthusiasm in the aftermath of Darcy’s stabbing. He was pushing everyone to new heights, coming up with new prototypes for a disparate number of inventions, turning back calculations to the physicists at record speeds. No one working for Stark Industries was getting much rest these days.

 

But most especially Jane Foster. She answered the questions that were put to her, did the basic functions of her job, but she wasn’t really there.

 

She knew, of course, that the life she’d chosen was rather more dangerous than she’d expected when she chose her astrophysics as her field of study. Not many of her colleagues encountered aliens or gods or superheroes on a regular basis. Not many of them lived in a tower that seemed to be a magnet for terrorists.

 

Life was changing so fast -- Thor had been gone so long she’d gotten used to the missing of him, had almost found that ache comforting. Now he was in her world, and there, all of the time… at least for the time being, and that was a change she hadn’t been entirely prepared for, as bizarre as that was. She’d prepared for the experiment which had brought him home to fail. She’d prepared for him to have moved on. She’d prepared for a blowout. She’d prepared for them to have one beautiful evening together and then have him leave.

 

What she hadn’t prepared for was the reality of having such a man in her life, day in and day out. She’d had boyfriends before -- men who slept in her bed and ate her food. Men with their head in the clouds. Men who took advantage of her head in the clouds.

 

She’d never quite had a Thor.

 

Thor required that she be present -- snapped her mind back into place in a way few other people did. He worried about her, but was assured of her competence -- he came from a world where women could be, and often were, warriors. He was, to put it mildly, fantastic in bed, and distractingly attractive.

 

But she worried about her work. She worried about the fact that she couldn’t seem to make herself focus. Slowly, she became aware of a presence standing next to her. A presence that had been there for a while. She started and looked up at the face of Bruce Banner.

 

“You’ve got quite a look on your face, Dr. Foster,” Dr. Banner said, dryly. As a rule, he was unobtrusive, but had a way about him that made talking to him easier than perhaps it might have been. “Something you need to get off your chest?”

 

Jane took a leap of faith. “Were you ever in love, Dr. Banner?”

 

One of his artfully expressive eyebrows raised itself and a corner of his mouth quirked up, like he wanted to fight the memory the question had given him. “I… have. Yes.”

 

“How was that?”

 

Dr. Banner shrugged. “Awful. Mostly. When it wasn’t wonderful.”

 

“Did your work, I mean…”

 

“Yes. For about five minutes. And then you learn to cope with it, and you move on. For adaptive creatures, change sure can wreak havoc on the brain chemistry. Allow yourself to adjust. Then you’ll find you’ll be able to enjoy your boyfriend, be brilliant at work, and support your friend.” Bruce smiled fatalistically. “And then something else will change, and your brain chemistry will be out of whack, and then you’ll adjust… Some of us call it life, Dr. Foster.”

 

“I’ve never… been this way before.”

 

Bruce touched her shoulder, a rare show of physical affection. “Some of us are late bloomers.”

 

“Well. It sucks.”

 

“Indeed.”

 

Jane cleared her throat. “Are you working on something good?”

 

“I am looking into the Winter Soldier problem,” Dr. Banner said, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Natasha has taken over his recovery, I’m still looking into whatever was done to his blood at a molecular level. Hydra’s attempt to replicate the success of the Captain America experiment was more successful with him than with any other subject I’ve ever seen. I want to know how they got so close.”

 

“Darcy says Steve’s told her that the original doctor thought the experiment’s success hinged on the subject -- that those who were strong and good had those characteristics amplified -- those who weren’t…”

 

Bruce’s mouth twisted into an approximation of a smile. “Yes, well -- that would certainly explain some things. About Steve. And me. Still…”

 

“Anecdotal evidence is merely… anecdotal.”

 

Bruce’s face relaxed. “Exactly, Dr. Foster. Exactly.”

 

**

 

_“If they ever send you after me, I want you to promise me one thing.”_

_Natasha slid one bare leg over his, rolled her body back over on to her lovers’. “What is that?”_

_“I want it to be quick. I never want to see it coming. Come at me with your best. None of the dirty tricks I taught you -- no matter how much I’ve hurt you.”_

_Natasha nodded, slowly. “I am certain that I can hold onto that -- I’ll put it in the black box.”_

_James smiled faintly. “We don’t have much time.”_

_“No. Just a few more hours, by my calculations, before they begin to wonder where we are. We should not waste our time talking about such things.”_

_“It’s only a matter of time before they figure it out. They always figure it out. And when they do, they’ll have us turn on each other -- the way they always do. I just think we should be prepared.”_

_“And I just think we should not think of such grim things, and make love.”_

_James’ smile turned to a grin. “Perhaps you should convince me.”_

_“You are not hard to convince… you are, however…” Natasha twisted her hips. “Extremely hard. I see I have won the discussion.”_

_“Minx. I should tie you up and beat you.”_

_A shiver ran through her. “Promises, promises.”_

_He covered a breast with his mouth, sucked it. “Certainties, doll. Certainties.”_

 

**

 

Darcy’s bid to be set free from the hospital had fallen flat with the nurses and doctors, who insisted that she stay another day. Darcy had taken the news well, until the doctor had left the room. Then she had promptly burst into tears.

 

“I’m sorry,” she said, wiping her eyes. “I know I’m supposed to be tough. I just want to go home.”

 

Steve’s heart broke. “I want to be at home with you, too.”

 

He hadn’t been able to relax at the hospital. He found himself jumping at shadows, investigating every noise that seemed a little out of place. Waking up in the middle of the night to make sure that Darcy was still breathing, and the machines that monitored her were still functioning. He didn’t need sleep as much as normal humans might, but even he was starting to wear a little at the edges. He crawled in bed with her and held her, as loosely as he could while still making his presence known while she cried herself out.

 

“Steve?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“You tell anybody I did that and I’ll smack you.”

 

He chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “I love you, Darce.”

 

“Love you more.” She closed her eyes. “I love you so much I want you to get away from me.”

 

“What?”

 

“You’re a wreck, Steven. You think I can’t see that from here? You need a shower. You need a break. I need you to take care of yourself the way you would if I were at home, okay?”

 

“So, what you’re saying is…”

 

“Go home. At least for a couple of hours. Get some rest. SHIELD has guys on my door. They’ll take care of me. Captain America can’t collapse from exhaustion over me. I’d be the laughingstock of the tabloids.” Darcy smiled, and Steve squeezed her hand.

 

“Are you sure this what you want?”

 

“Yes, I am absolutely sure that you not falling apart is what I want. Go. I’ll see you in a little bit.”

 

**

 

He’d been sitting in the same position for hours. It was a game he liked to play as a child, before he’d run away to the circus. How still could he sit so that no one would notice him, no one would bother him? No one would kick or curse… If he sat absolutely still, and didn’t make a sound, they would sometimes forget he was alive.

 

There was a curious kind of freedom in that.

 

Now, little kid Clint played the same game, inside big Clint’s body. He sat on the roof of the building, the only part of his body allowed to move were his eyes, as he tracked the comings and goings of all the residents and matched them with descriptions and pictures he’d been briefed on of known members of Lumen’s organization.

 

His ear piece crackled, disrupting the fiction of the game. Clint accepted it with a sigh.

 

“Barton. What do you want?”

 

“Cap’s on the move. What’s the situation there?”

 

Barton’s lips twitched. “Normal.”

 

“Spot anything?”

 

Barton fought the urge to dress down the newbie team lead on the other end. “What does ‘normal’ mean, Rookie?”

 

“Uh -- you don’t spot anything, do you?”

 

“That would be a negative. Now be quiet. You’re ruining the game.”

 

“The game, sir? Uh… sorry. Nelson out.”

 

Barton allowed himself a chuckle, and then resumed being a gargoyle on a New York City rooftop.

 

**

 

The ambulance flew over a bump, and every SHIELD agent riding in the back with Barnes caught some air and was slammed back down.

 

“Jee-zus,” the EMT said, wiping his brow. “It’s like they’re trying to wake him up or something.”

 

“If he does, I will do everything in my power to keep him from killing you. Unless you continue to be this annoying,” Natasha said, not moving her eyes from the prone figure of the Winter Soldier. “Then, of course, you will be on your own.”

 

**

 

Rogers was nearly home when Barton noticed it -- something wasn’t… right. None of the men entering the building were on his watch list, but then… they weren’t residents of the building, either.

 

Clint dropped from the rooftop, repelled down to Captain America’s window, picked the lock, and slipped inside. He took a deep, measured breath, and waited.

 

**

 

“Huh, that’s funny,” Agent Nelson said. Darcy didn’t know him very well. Apparently he was a rookie. She wasn’t high enough up in the food chain to warrant an expert, she guessed.

 

“What’s funny?”

 

“Agent Barton was assigned to monitor your apartment. He has gone radio silent.” Agent Nelson cocked his head. “I wonder what that could mean.

 

Darcy’s blood ran cold.

 

**

 

What strange things these human hospitals appeared to be, Thor mused as he entered the sliding glass doors. They had a distinct odor that Jane assured him had to do with killing microbial organisms which carried disease, and everyone employed there rushed about looking very serious and carrying clipboards. It didn’t appear as though they were very restful places, where one could approach healing in the proper frame of mind. But then, Jane told him that not many people could just go to sleep and heal themselves here.

 

Odd, these little beings.

 

Still! Lady Darcy was ensconced here, striving to allow the wound in her belly to close, the damage to her internal organs to resolve. He knew from experience that forced inactivity was difficult, and it was good to have company. Jane had to attend to her work, and even he eventually grew bored of sparring. His mother had often encouraged these little kindnesses as a way to build character, to be a better man. And so, he strode through the hallways feeling much too big, carrying a dainty bouquet of flowers.

 

He was directed to Darcy’s hallway by a dazed looking nurse.

 

“It’s just, uh… that way.” She pointed. “I don’t know how that girl makes her friends, but every single one of you is something else. Something. Else.”

 

“Thank you,” Thor said brightly, choosing to believe this was a compliment. He noted that every door was inscribed with a number. A truly efficient system. He found Darcy’s, and looked around.

 

How odd.

 

Every other hallway had been crowded with people, busy, noisy…. This hallway was silent and still. His hand fisted automatically.

 

**

 

The doorknob twisted this way and that, the lock turned over. It was clearly being picked. Clint pulled his knife from his boot. Normally, yes, he preferred arrows, but… close quarter combat meant he had to go a bit… off his beaten path. It’d been a while since he’d performed this particular act… but he could hit a target with any sharp thing.

 

**

 

Steve stopped outside the building, looking this way and that. He’d been reassured SHIELD had unobtrusive eyes on the property, but he wasn’t quite aware that they would be this unobtrusive. He itched for a gun. But he hadn’t been carrying at the hospital, and all of his weaponry was in the apartment, which meant -- if someone was in there, and had already taken out the SHIELD agent he thought for sure he would have spotted by now… then he’d be bare-fisting it until he got to the gun safe.

 

He set his teeth. Good. He was in the mood for a bit of a challenge.

 

**

 

Thor brightly threw open the door, his arms extended like he was prepared to hug her. “Lady Darcy!”

 

His smile quickly faded, and he charged into the room.

 

**

 

The door opened. Clint didn’t move from his spot behind the sofa and threw his voice to the other side of the room. “I wouldn’t move, if I were you.”

 

Lumen’s agents looked at each other, and looked around.

 

“I see you,” Clint said, in his best carnival ghost voice.

 

“Hey, quit dicking around, douchebag,” one of the guys said. “This ain’t funny.”

 

“On the contrary,” Clint said, making his voice sound as though it were coming from the ceiling. “In the proper frame of mind, this is hilarious.”

 

“What is wrong with you, man? Ain’t this supposed to be Captain America’s place?”

 

Clint let the knife in his hand fly. And then its twin. “Two down,” he muttered to himself, pulling the bodies inside. “How many more to go?”

 

**

 

Steve made his way through the building, quietly asking his neighbors to leave, promising to explain himself later on. He couldn’t guarantee that Lumen’s agents hadn’t planned on blowing him up. He was notoriously hard to kill, but even he couldn’t come back from vaporization, so it wouldn’t surprise him in the least.

 

He came to Mrs. Pearlman’s apartment, a little old lady who, in truth, was more than a little sour. She made comments about the noises coming from Darcy and Steve’s apartment all the time, and never seemed to be pleased about anything. She was not going to be happy to see him at all. Steve raised his hand and knocked on the door.

 

He was greeted with the barrel of a .45 caliber handgun.

 

“Captain America, I presume?” The short man spoke with a Russian accent. Steve reached out, took the gun from him by force, and flipped the man over. Without delay, he twisted the barrel until the gun was unusable.

 

“Oh please,” he said with a smile. “Call me Steve.”

 

**

 

“GREETINGS, BEING ON THE OTHER END OF THIS COMMUNICATION DEVICE.”

 

“Shit!” Hawkeye pulled the receiver out of his ear. “Thor?”

 

“BIRDMAN! IT IS DELIGHTFUL TO HEAR YOUR VOICE.”

 

“You don’t have to shout, buddy, I can hear you just fine. It’s like magic, right?”

 

“Ah,no different than the celluar phone the lady Darcy is attached to.”

 

“Exactly,” Barton said, sliding the earpiece back home. “What can I do for you? I’m kind of in the middle of something.”

 

“If there has been concern for the lady Darcy’s safety, have no fear. I have broken the neck of the little man who attempted to kill her.”

 

“Steve… will be glad to hear it.”

 

“Indeed. I have no way to notify the sour one-eyed man of my presence or interference here. I must remain with the lady until I am assured of the ability of those sent to guard her this time, as the last one was a traitor.”

 

“Steve’s… going to be glad to hear that, too. How, uh… is she?”

 

Thor’s voice was a little less bright. “He did not get very far. She will be okay, but she appears to be in a great deal of pain.”

 

Barton took a peak around the corner, and saw what he was afraid he was going to see. “Hey, listen Thor? I’m going to get off the phone.”

 

“Has something gone wrong?”

 

“Everything’s all right. It’s just that phones sometimes set off bombs.”

 

Barton ended the call.

 

**

 

Steve threw the gun on the ground and walked over to the man, pressing one foot on his arm to keep him on the floor while he looked around. “Are there more of you?”

 

“No. There is only me.”

 

Steve pushed his weight down. “Are there more of you?”

 

“You will break my arm!” With the man’s thick Russian accent, it was a little hard to understand him, but Steve got the jist.

 

“Not intentionally. Not if you tell me the truth. Are there more of you?”

 

“No. Not here. There is only me. I remain here, with the puny gun and the little old lady while they work upstairs.”

 

“Who? While who works upstairs?”

 

“The operatives who are checking on the bomb.”

 

**

 

Barton took a risk, and dialed a number he’d committed to memory rather than leave in his phone. It rang several times, and Tony’s computerized major-domo picked up the phone. “Stark Industries personal line. Will you please verify that you are approved to have access to this number?”

 

Clint didn’t have time to jump through the hoops. “Listen, you’ve got to put me through to Tony.”

 

“Master Stark has asked that he not be disturbed unless it’s an emergency.”

 

“I need to know how to dismantle a bomb and I would like to speak to him right fucking now.”

 

“Of course, sir. Without delay.”

 

**

 

“Get out,” Steve said, pushing the man out the door. “Just get out. I’ll get Mrs. Pearlman. Just run. SHIELD’s here, you numbskull, and if they don’t know there’s a bomb it could go off any second!”

 

The Russian took off like a rocket. Mrs. Pearlman, however, was not capable of that. She took tiny steps towards the door. Steve couldn’t risk it.

 

“Ma’am, I am truly sorry for what I am about to do.” He scooped her up in his arms and began to run.

 

**

 

“Blue wire or red wire, I can never remember which one to cut.”

 

Tony’s concerned face took up all of Clint’s viewscreen. “Don’t cut either one. You don’t have time. Listen, this is what you do…”

 

**

 

Steve was outside when the bomb went off. The windows blew out of his apartment and flames erupted just as he got Mrs. Pearlman to safety. Steve felt a sinking down in the pit of his stomach as he reached for the phone in his pocket to call the fire department. Everything he’d worked so hard to gather in the 21st century was in that apartment.

 

And now it was gone. Including his newly redesigned uniform. The one he actually, you know, liked. Dammit.

 

Just then, another soul flew out the flaming window and repelled down the side of the building on a rope Steve hadn’t even realized was there. And the figure was carrying his shield.

 

“Thanks for the loaner, Cap!” Hawkeye said with a grin. “It was a real life saver. Stop having a conniption, Stark, I’m just fine…”

 

**

 

“It is clear,” Nick Fury said to Coulson, “that Lumen and his associates will keep coming after the Avengers and SHIELD until we relinquish their asset.”

 

“With all due respect, sir,” Steve said, entering Coulson’s office without asking. “That’s not going to happen.”

 

“Obviously not, Captain. What do you recommend?”

 

“I like to think I’m better than revenge sir. But this is the third time they’ve tried to kill my girlfriend and not the first time they’ve tried to kill me. I think we need to take the fight to them and shut it down, sir.”

 

“Shut what down?”

 

“All of it. All of Lumen Industries.”

 

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” Nick asked. “A task force like that -- with Widow and the Soldier out in the middle of nowhere doing Outward Bound assassin style… the only ones available are you and Stark…. I could loan you Coulson’s team, but…”

 

“I want the best available. And I want to go now.”

 

“It’ll take me some time to gather everyone together,” Coulson said smoothly. “You could go to the hospital and say goodbye, if you want.”

 

“I’m not a big believer in goodbyes, Agent. I did tell her I would see her later.” Steve linked his hands behind his back. “She told me to kick some ass, sir.”

 

“Hell of a dame,” Fury muttered.

 

“Indeed,” Coulson said.

 

**

 

“This appears to be totally healthy behavior,” Pepper said.  

 

Tony didn’t even have the decency to pretend to jump. He had been aware of her presence -- the shoes, her perfume, that little tingle in the back of his brain that said _something has changed something is coming pay attention_ … Which was helpful when it came to figuring out that Pepper had entered the room and not so helpful when it was jumping at shadows.

 

“The argument could be made that I am not an entirely healthy being,” Tony said, reaching up and smashing one of the virtual screens into a ball and tossing it.

 

“Mm. Healthy is boring.”

 

There was a note to her voice. It made him look up, take in the skirt she was wearing, the shoes. “Pepper, my darling. You’re wearing _the shoes_.”

 

“Am I?” Pepper lifted her heel as though she had forgotten she had put them on.

 

“And the skirt. You know the pencil skirt drives me crazy with the shoes, and… Ms. Potts, I believe you came to work underdressed today…”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Doesn’t the dress code explicitly state that proper undergarments are to be worn at all times?”

 

“Actually,” Pepper grinned, “the dress code is a little hazy on that particular subject. At your insistence.”

 

“Did you come down to my lab with the intention of seducing me?”

 

“It’s my break time.” Pepper lifted one shoulder and let it fall. “I thought perhaps you might want to… I don’t know. Take a little break with me.”

 

“Oh, a challenge!” Tony rubbed his hands together. “How long do I have to blow your mind, Ms. Potts?”

 

“Sir?”

 

Tony whirled to face the ceiling. “Dammit, JARVIS! We have had  conversations about this on _multiple occasions_. When Ms. Potts is wearing the shoes you do not call unless…”

 

“The world is blowing up. I’m aware, sir. Agent Coulson of SHIELD is on the line.”

 

“We don’t like that guy anymore. Guys who pretend to be dead don’t get put through when Ms. Potts is wearing the shoes. Tell Agent Coulson to stick his…”

 

“Whatever you were about to say is very likely anatomically impossible, Stark,” Coulson said, his face taking up an entire screen on one side of the room. “I hope you don’t mind me going around JARVIS.”  

 

“Actually, I do mind. You see, Ms. Potts is wearing _the shoes_ …”

 

“Tony!” Pepper went bright red. “Please be quiet.”

 

“The shoes, Agent Coulson, that make her magnificent posterior that much more magnificent…”

 

“Ah. I seem to have interrupted an, ah… amorous moment. My apologies. But I would not contact you if it were not urgent.”

 

“Sure, sure. You just miss my beautiful face.”

  
“Tony, we need you to come in. The Cap’s ready to roll. And he wants your help.”


End file.
